


Love-Tricks

by snark



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Masturbation, Porn With Plot, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Shameless Smut, Slow(ish) build, Teasing, buckynat - Freeform, sexual frustration all round, winterwidow - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-05
Updated: 2016-05-05
Packaged: 2018-06-06 14:54:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6758665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snark/pseuds/snark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The super-soldier serum strengthens every body system and heightens every sense. This results in a few unintended side effects such as the inability to get drunk, near constant hunger, occasional bouts of insomnia, and (for a brief period) absolute, crippling arousal. Bucky learns about the fourth the hard way, and Natasha does love to flirt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love-Tricks

_His caresses were the last hooks of a castaway_

_Her love-tricks were the grinding of locks._

 

Ted Hughes, 'Lovesong'

 

The first vestiges of Bucky’s mind to completely shake the Winter Soldier’s grip were those the Soldier had had no use for. Dancing returned to Bucky one night all in a rush. At the sound of a passing car, playing a rhythmic blues tune, he suddenly remembered how to Lindy Hop. Delighted, and much to the dismay of Steve, he had spent all night practicing in their apartment. The next was play, of any form. From the relaxation of chess to the thrill of theme parks. Outings became more frequent as Bucky relearned the joys of play. 

Bucky learned that as long as he was out of the fight he could be himself. Within the fight the Winter Soldier reigned supreme. Any minor threat spotted during his downtime immediately reactivated the Soldier. Bucky was privately grateful for his protection. He had proven useful in eliminating more than one tail.

The most shocking thing to return to Bucky was sexuality. It, too, had come all in a rush. Suddenly he was thirteen again, hiding behind a plant at the mall to conceal a raging erection. He peeked out from behind the leaves at the two women who had paused by the fountain to rearrange their shopping bags. Bent over, one of them had revealed a little more thigh than intended as her short skirt hitched upwards. She wrestled it down now, picked up her bags more easily and drifted away with her friend. Bucky took a deep breath and pressed himself back behind his cover.

‘What is it? What’s wrong?’

Then there was Steve, urgent in his ear. He crouched slightly behind Bucky. His eyes cast about for danger. Bucky felt the heat of a blush rise from his throat to his cheeks.

‘Nothing.’ He tried desperately to call on the Soldier to make the lying easier. ‘It’s nothing. I just...I freaked out.’

Steve relaxed. ‘Alright. Let’s get out of here.’

Bucky stayed still, resisting the urge to cover his crotch with both hands. He was half buried in the plant, he realised, in his attempt to hide his boner. Steve peered at him curiously. Bucky waved his hand at him in attempt at ease.

‘I’m just gonna...stay here for a bit..’

‘Bucky, what’s wrong?’ 

The concern in Steve’s expression only made Bucky blush harder. He did not want to admit to his oldest friend that he was hiding his dick in a bush. But he either had to say it, or show it and that was by far the worst option. Bucky sighed through the embarrassment. 

‘Nothing’s wrong, but...And I swear if you laugh I will break your neck right here…’

‘What?’ Steve prompted sharply now.

‘I have a massive boner, okay!’ Bucky hissed. ‘There! I don’t know what the fuck is going on, but there! That’s it!’

Steve’s look was blank at first, but quickly melted into one of badly concealed amusement. Bucky glared at him with all his might. Steve pressed his lips together in an attempt to keep the laughter in. As Bucky, forced by the uncomfortable press of his zipper against his dick, adjusted his jeans slightly Steve lost it. He burst into crowing laughter, stumbling backwards with a hand on his chest. Bucky lashed out at him, but his punch met thin air.

‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry,’ Steve gasped out between bellows of laughter. 

‘Steve!’ Bucky snapped.

Steve’s laughter quieted down to a wheeze and he approached Bucky again. Bucky, rapidly regaining control of his nether regions through sheer force of will, reached out again and punched Steve hard on the bicep.

Steve still giggled.

‘I’m sorry,’ he repeated. ‘I just...I thought you’d have that under control by now.’

Another peal of laughter broke through. Bucky, infuriated, lost all memory of the woman’s thighs and stalked out of the plant. To avoid any further incidents, however, he kept his eyes on the ground as he made for the nearest exit.

‘Bucky, wait!’ Steve jogged after him. Once they were out in the cool air of parking lot, Steve pulled Bucky to a stop. His face was serious once again. ‘That’s not what I meant, okay? I just…’ He gestured awkwardly with his hands at nothing. ‘It’s a side effect of the serum. I thought you’d have gone through it ages ago...I guess not.’

‘The serum?’ Bucky blurted out in surprise.

Steve shrugged with one shoulder. ‘It heightens senses, increases metabolism, brain function, blood flow...Erskine described it in his notes as an “unintended side effect”.’

Bucky looked at him a little more gently, vindicated. ‘So I’m not...having some kind of horrible puberty relapse?’

‘Kind of,’ Steve admitted uncomfortably. ‘You get used to it. Much like the first time.’

‘Oh God,’ Bucky groaned. They began walking to the car. ‘No. Put me back in cryofreeze.’

Steve let out another giggle. ‘Can’t delay the inevitable, buddy.’

Bucky groaned again.

When they arrived home Bucky intended to lock himself in his room and deal with this like all teenage boys. Steve obviously knew this and had badly masked laughter through the ride home. However as Bucky breezed by the living room he noticed someone in there.

Natasha Romanoff was a common presence in their apartment. She often turned up a little bruised and/or bloody for a shower and a change of clothes. Other times she just turned up to see Steve. Understandably, she was not so fond of Bucky. Ordinarily they ignored each other - but now…

Bucky paused in the doorway to see her for what felt like the very first time. She was lying on the sofa, one leg stretched out and the other bent so her foot pressed against the floor. One arm was extended as she brandished the tv remote, the other flopped over her stomach lazily. Her face was impassive, bored and she flicked through channels at a phenomenal rate. She lifted her head to look at Bucky, disturbing her red hair from where she had tucked it under her crown. It fell around her face, a little wet from their shower no doubt. Bucky stood frozen in her gaze.

‘You guys watch some amount of shit,’ she said simply. Her head dropped back onto the arm rest.

Her body was lithe, fluid even in absolute stillness. Firm calves gave way to plentiful thighs, to wide hips, to a small, tight waist, to breasts…

Bucky had to stop himself. He tore his eyes away from her. As he walked away he catalogued the smell of her perfume in his head. 

By the time he slammed his door shut, his dick was just about as hard as it got. Going the old fashioned route, he jammed a chair under the doorknob. The curtains were already firmly closed thanks to his lingering paranoia. Bucky flopped onto his bed and looked down at the offending body part between his legs. It pressed against his jeans eager to be let out.

_ Eager _ , he thought, _ to bury itself between Natasha Romanoff’s thighs. _

He nearly groaned aloud. He rolled onto his belly and whimpered into the pillow. For all he wanted to he did not have the courage to masturbate to the thought of her while she lounged in the next room. He felt she would somehow know, and kill him midway through the act. And Bucky  _ really _ needed to come.

There was of course the option of porn, but Bucky could not even picture another woman with that image of Romanoff in his head. The slight spread of her thighs had entrapped him. He ached suddenly and strongly to spread them further, and dip his head and open his mouth and-

_ Stop. No. _

He had already shot the woman twice. She deserved his respect at the very least. 

But then he was thinking about the times he had fought her, and the way she somehow always ended up wrapping her legs around his head. He groaned again into the bed, his dick straining against the material of his clothes. Of course she had been trying to choke him those times. He wished the Winter Soldier had had the presence of mind to remember the sweet smell of her-

_ Please stop. _

But what she wouldn’t know wouldn’t hurt her...right? If he did it quickly perhaps it didn’t count? 

His treacherous hand was down his pants before Bucky had totally made his mind up. On his belly, like a kid, his face pressed into his pillows in shame, Bucky thought of Natasha and touched himself.

He thought about her breasts, finally, and how they hung heavily under her shirt. He thought of them in her tac gear, hoisted and held firmly in place. He thought of peeling down her zipper to expose them. He thought of how her skin would feel there - unexposed to battle, still soft.

Each stroke both up and down was like poison and antidote. They coiled him tighter and tighter, but relieved his passion equally. Bucky built towards his climax rapidly, beads of precum helping the process. He imagined the heave of her chest as she panted, close to her own orgasm.

That did it.

Bucky exploded into his underwear, face screwed up against the pillow. Waves and waves of pleasure overcame him. He vaguely wondered about the last time he had orgasmed - and realised he could not remember. The hot liquid coated his hand, made his dick slick and felt like liquid fucking gold pouring out of him.

The orgasm lasted longer than Bucky thought was possible. When he came down from it, still panting a little, he became completely and utterly disgusted with himself. He drew out his sticky, pearlescent hand and cringed. As he cleaned up in his mercifully private bathroom, Bucky offered up a small plea of forgiveness to Natasha Romanoff. 

Bucky dared not venture out his room while Natasha was still in the apartment. Neither she nor Steve bothered him, mercifully. He spent the night looking at dirty pictures and masturbating when the urge took over. He ignored the fact he liked the pictures of the red heads best.

In the morning she was gone. Bucky, well sated from his night of intensive porn therapy, made a large breakfast. He and Steve could easily eat a banquet, so cracking twelve eggs into a bowl didn’t feel like a waste. Steve, no doubt tempted by the smell of omelettes, arrived in the kitchen still half asleep.

‘Long time no see,’ he teased, sliding into a seat at the table.

‘Ha ha,’ Bucky said dryly. ‘What was Romanoff doing here last night?’

Steve shrugged. ‘She just wanted to use our DVR.’

‘Tell her to get her own damn DVR,’ he snapped.

Steve laughed. ‘Yeah, she’s not going to do that. She just put a full series of  _ House of Cards _ on ours. We’ll have to use a crowbar to get her off the sofa.’

Bucky looked around himself, trying to hide his alarm. ‘Is she still here?’

Steve stretched sleepily, unaware of Bucky’s concern. ‘Went for a jog, I think.’

Bucky tried to serve and wolf down as much of his breakfast as he could before she returned. He failed. Half way through a particularly large mouthful, she returned. Bucky, tears in his eyes, forced down the half-chewed mass. For all he knew it was impossible, he still wanted to make a semi-good impression on Natasha.

‘Steve. Barnes,’ she greeted as he walked in. 

Bucky could smell her sweat from across the kitchen. Had he always been able to do that? He kept his eyes firmly on his breakfast, taking much smaller bites now. She refilled her water bottle from the faucet.

‘Any plans for today?’ she asked the room casually.

Steve stretched once again. ‘Guess I’ll see what  _ House of Cards _ is all about.’

She chuckled. Bucky noted her breathing was laboured slightly. He clamped down on his thoughts, forcing himself to instead picture Tony Stark doing a stip tease. His mind cringed away from it immediately. He tried his best not to flinch.

‘You gonna eat that, Barnes, or are you just gonna stare a hole in it?’

Bucky looked up at her as she addressed him. She pointed to his plate. His treacherous brain imagined crossing the kitchen in two long strides and kissing the goddamn life out of her. Sweaty hair, flushed cheeks and all. Bucky shook his head in answer to both her question and his fantasy. 

‘You mind?’ Her palm turned upwards. 

Bucky pushed it across the table with his right hand, his left in a carefully calculated position to hide his growing erection. Whoever thought sweatpants were a good idea anyway? She sank into a chair, picked up his knife and fork and began eating. Bucky tried so hard to ignore the way her lips parted and closed, and her tongue darting out lick up crumbs. He ended up bowing his head, eyes shut. Hopefully, she would mistake it for another funny Winter Soldier turn. 

Steve, grinning little shit, knew exactly what was going on. Luckily, he decided not to stir it. 

‘You make this?’ she asked suddenly.

Once again, Bucky looked up at her. She looked at him evenly, her expression blank but not unkind. He nodded. She pointed to the omelette with her fork.

‘It’s good. You put chilli in here?’

‘Hot sauce.’ To his horror, Bucky’s voice came out in a desperate little croak. He coughed to clear it and sat up a little straighter. 

She nodded in appreciation. ‘Better than Steve’s anyway.’

‘I’ve had rations better than Steve’s cooking.’ The words poured out of him, natural, light.  _ This _ was all Bucky Barnes and it seemed so uncomfortably foreign in conjunction with his semi.

To his surprise she laughed. She never laughed because of him. Natasha had maintained a kind of steely silence around him, with the occasional word of comfort when his brain melted like ice cream in the sun. The latter he knew was only to protect herself from his potential wrath. She looked to Steve, her face full of delight.

‘You gonna take that lying down?’ she asked teasingly.

Steve held up his hands. ‘This isn’t a battle I’m going to win.’

Bucky smiled at him a little, still massively uncomfortable. Steve raised an eyebrow with his returning grin. Natasha missed the exchange, busy cleaning her plate of food. Steve began gathering empty dishes. Bucky stayed firmly put.

‘Your name is James, right?’ she asked.

Bucky forced himself to look her in the eye and not in the fantastic cleavage poking out her sports bra. ‘Bucky,’ he corrected.

She frowned incredulously. ‘I’m not calling you that. I refuse to accept I’ve been shot twice by a guy named  _ Bucky _ . Is it cool if I call you James?’

Dumbstruck by her attention, her stunning, piercing attention, Bucky nodded. ‘Yeah. That’s fine.’

She dropped her plate into the sink, ignoring Steve’s groan. ‘I’m going for a shower,’ she announced to the room. Then she was gone, hips swinging in her yoga pants.

Bucky let out a huge groan as soon as he heard the shower running. His head fell into his arms on the table, he cradled his aching head - ignoring his other aching head for now.

‘I could ask her to leave,’ Steve said quietly.

‘No,’ Bucky groaned. ‘It’s fine. I’ll get over it soon...right?’

‘Right,’ Steve said firmly. ‘Otherwise I’m kicking you out.’

‘Very funny,’ he huffed.

‘Feel kinda bad for you, buddy,’ Steve said. He put a cup of coffee before Bucky. ‘If she finds out you’re dead meat.’

‘Ya think? She’ll eat me alive.’

Steve shook his head. ‘Not what I meant. Natasha likes to flirt way too much to let this opportunity go.’

Bucky took a moment to digest that. For a second it seemed an attractive notion: Natasha Romanoff teasing him relentlessly. But the bulge in his pants said otherwise. If she teased him and he didn’t get to bury himself inside her for an entire week he would die. She would literally tease him to death.

He let out another groan.

So Bucky went out while Natasha and Steve watched television. He went over to Sam’s because there were no women there. Sam answered the door grumpily.

‘What’s up?’ he asked coolly.

‘I need to hide in your house until Natasha leaves mine,’ Bucky explained briefly.

After a moment Sam nodded and let him in. Bucky flopped down on the sofa, the last vestiges of his desire still lingering in his brain. He had jacked off before leaving, coming in the sink like a goddamn teenager. However, the smell of her sweat was still thick in his head. He had  _ never _ been attracted to that before, but Bucky was pretty sure she could have wiped her ass on his sheets and he would find something about it hot. He felt ridiculous.

‘She giving you a hard time?’ Sam asked curiously.

Bucky let out low laughter. ‘That’s one way to put it.’

Sam gave him a half-smile, anxious for the details. ‘What she do, man?’

‘She hasn’t  _ done _ anything,’ Bucky replied, sitting up a little. ‘It’s just that if I stay in that house with her any longer I’ll end up with some kind of sexual harassment lawsuit on my hands. That is if she leaves me with any hands.’

‘Wow.’ Clearly Sam had not expected that. ‘You got a crush on the Black Widow?’

‘Wouldn’t call it a crush. Unless you mean crush my face between her-’

‘Woah, okay, wow!’ Sam interrupted. ‘I gotta get down to the VA, mostly so I never hear the end of that sentence. Try not to fuck any of my furniture out of frustration while I’m gone.’

Bucky waved him off. ‘If you find any pamphlets on this bring them back.’

Sam chuckled as he left.

Bucky returned home later that night suitably relaxed. Instead of indulging his hormones, he had pursued other forms of distraction. He found himself a lot calmer now. It seemed the intensive treatment did not help at all. 

He smelled her perfume when he entered the front door, but he expected that. He heard the murmurs of television and expected that too. He made a beeline for his bedroom, but opened it to find her sitting on his bed.

Bucky’s throat closed over with the force of his imagination. She was most certainly  _ not _ in lacy underwear but he could picture it so clearly. Her posture was tight, not languid and welcoming. Her expression was cold, but Bucky could see her lips dropping open for him. He nearly stumbled back against the wall just to put distance between them.

‘You’ve been avoiding me,’ she said.

‘We don’t even know each other,’ Bucky protested.

Her eyes narrowed. ‘And yet you’ve been avoiding me.’

She stood up in one fluid movement. Bucky saw the full curve of her ass as she stood, swelling and retreating and looking just the right size to latch onto. How dearly he wished he had a book or something,  _ anything _ to cover his crotch. Instead he had to settle for shifting uncomfortably.

‘If I find out you’re part of something, Barnes,’ she began to threaten, ‘I’ll put you in the ground before Steve has a chance to get in the way.’

‘I’m not part of anything,’ Bucky snapped, irritated. ‘Yeah I’ve been avoiding you, but it’s none of your damn business why.’

She approached him quickly, now just a foot between his chest and hers. Bucky held his breath for no reason he understood. She glared up at him. She was much smaller up close than she seemed. Bucky realised he could scoop her up into his arms quite easily.

‘I’m watching you, Barnes. If you so much as…’

But her words drowned in the image of her lips. They were plump, full, and reddened by talking. Bucky watched them, transfixed. He could not help but imagine them wrapped around the head of his cock. Oh, the things he would do to her in return…

He was brought back to reality by Natasha’s expression changing to one of shock. She stepped back from him, eyebrows knitted together. Bucky shook himself out of his little trance, and tried to play it off by staring down at his own hands.  _ God, stupid, should have just told her to leave. _

‘Oh, Sergeant,’ came a soft, warm purr. It shot through Bucky like lightning. ‘I’m flattered.’

‘I…’ words failed him, until he saw the amused look on her face. ‘Its the serum, okay?’ He argued. ‘Don’t get all mouthy because just about every woman on Earth is looking good to me right now. This,’ he gestured to himself, ‘will wear off soon.’

She pushed out her bottom lip. Bucky nearly,  _ very nearly _ , kissed her there and then. Instead he sighed and rubbed his hands over his face. He was sure she already knew about his boner, so he did not try to hide it as he took her spot on the bed. He was sure the little gasp for breath he heard was a product of his own, egotistical imagination.

‘You can go now,’ he pointed out, looking up at her. ‘As you can see I have business to attend to.’

Why was he being so nasty? Bucky could not tell. Perhaps he was too horny to be nice, was that a thing? 

Natasha wore a devilish smirk, unperturbed. ‘Alright. See you in the morning.’

She left, finally. Bucky took a moment to absorb the embarrassment before unzipping his jeans. It seemed the intensive treatment was back on.

 

Natasha shut his door firmly behind herself and leaned against it. Of all the theories she had hatched over the past day,  _ that _ was not one of them. She had, however, read all about the serum he and Rogers had been given. His story stuck. It made sense, really, that the Winter Soldier had not fulfilled these hormones in his many years. Now they had returned with a vengeance. 

Something deep in Natasha’s groin stirred and clenched when she heard the distinct sound of his zipper descending. He was about to masturbate...over her.

Her smile became self-satisfied. One of the most famous and talented assassins in the world was about to knock one out over her.  _ She _ had power over the Winter Soldier. She could have walked in there and mounted him if she liked. And how she would like…

Natasha had had to leave at the sight of the bulge in his pants. Barnes - no,  _ James _ \- was clearly hung and that was how Natasha liked them. She leaned her ear towards the door, but heard nothing. Until a faint, deep groan.

The tension in her crotch broke out into full blown arousal. She took flight from the door to the bathroom, cursing the fact that he seemed to have a little of that power over her too. 

Natasha locked the door, checked it, and sat on the closed toilet. With desperate hands, she pushed her jeans down and off and spread her legs. One ankle hooked easily over the edge of the tub, the other heel balanced on the edge of the counter. Cold air hit her vulva delightfully. Natasha slid a finger between her folds. She was already a little wet. 

Feeling deviant, she imagined it was a cold, metal finger touching her. 

A groan nearly escaped her. She could picture it easily, almost feel it. The solid weight of James around her as she sat in his lap and leaned back against his chest. With his left, metal hand he fingered her. With his right he teased a nipple. She bit her lip to hold back a cry. With her free hand, she caressed her breast.

Natasha imagined his hot breath on her neck. She imagined the hot hardness of his cock under her ass, imagined grinding against him slowly to drive him insane. In retaliation, dream-James spred her lips and plunged two fingers inside her.

Natasha finger fucked herself and imagined him doing it. When her climax began to build, she paused. Instead she pictured him on his knees before her, cock in hand. She pictured his wide, blue eyes intent upon her pussy. She closed her eyes and pretended to masturbate for the Winter Soldier. At first, slow circles around her clit. After a few minutes, unable to tease herself longer, Natasha was flicking her clit with sure, delicious motions. 

She came massively, her vagina clamping and releasing madly. She jerked with the force of it, over and over. Pleasure broke over her in waves, gradually receding, until she found herself spread-eagled in Steve’s bathroom with her genitals on display to no one.

She grinned to herself.  _ This _ she decided  _ was good. _

 

Bucky was woken in the middle of the night by Steve knocking on his door. He sat up, scanning his bedroom for threats.

‘We’ve been called in!’ Steve shouted through the woods. ‘Three minutes, suit up!’

Bucky took a deep breath as he felt the shroud of the soldier fall over his mind. It was calming, in some ways, to be so carefully protected by his violence. He screwed his eyes shut. When he opened them again his focus was razor sharp. He rose and began to suit up.

When they arrived the Avengers Compound, Steve stopped Bucky with a hand on his shoulder. Bucky turned to him curiously.

‘Romanoff is going to be on the mission,’ Steve said bluntly. ‘I want to know if that’s going to be a problem.’

Bucky considered it for a moment. So tempting before, now the image of her body in his mind was completely bearable. She held no more attraction to him at the moment than a lamppost.

‘No,’ Bucky replied firmly.

Steve nodded, satisfied.

The mission turned out to be a bust, in the end. They had gone looking for a HYDRA arms dealer. They had found and neutralised his base, but there was no sign of the target. On the flight home in the packed quinjet, as Steve strategised, Bucky took inventory of his weapons.

One knife, broken at the hilt. Semi-automatic missing three bullets. Garrotte, missing.

‘They made you do that too, huh?’

Bucky did not look up from the barrell whose remaining bullets he counted. ‘Do what?’

Romanoff sank into the seat beside him. ‘Inventory,’ she said. ‘Post mission. Gotta know exactly how much an asset costs to determine its value.’

Bucky paused to look at her. She was dusty, but unharmed. She looked at him with a strange sort of softness. Cameraderie, he recognised it. He closed the chamber of the gun with a snap.

‘A good soldier knows his weapons,’ he replied plainly.

‘Yeah,’ she agreed. She tucked her hands between her thighs as if they were cold. ‘It took me a while to kick the habit too.’

Something pierced Bucky’s mind like a white hot poker. He cringed, and shut his eyes tightly. He searched for it again, but it did not return. He opened them and returned to taking inventory. From the corner of his eye, the sight of Romanoff’s hands squashed between her thighs seemed suddenly very important. The piercing started again, and Bucky heard his father telling him about girls.

_...Gotta be careful, son. I know it ain’t the right way according to some, but it’s the safe way… _

Bucky dropped his gun and squeezed his eyes shut. He pressed the heels of his hands into his sockets in an attempt to stop that awful flashing in his brain.

‘Hey,’ Romanoff spoke to him firmly, ‘you’re alright. Take a breath.’

Bucky did as she asked and he smelled her perfume. 

Oh.

_ Oh. _

‘Oh, God,’ he groaned.

‘Bucky?’ Steve asked gently, coming to his side.

‘I’m fine,’ Bucky snarled. ‘Fuck off.’

Steve let out a chuckle. ‘Okay, soldier.’

Steve patted him on the back roughly. It was a marker he used to check Bucky’s mental health. He thought Bucky didn’t know. He was tempted to lash out just to make Steve stop doing that.

Bucky released his breath in a long sigh, and straightened up. He let his hands fall into his lap. It took a while to blink the lights out from his eyes.

To his surprise Romanoff was still beside him. She looked at him with intense curiosity. He looked back at her, eyes flicking to each feature of her face. God, she was just…

The last of the Winter Soldier slipped away from his mind and was rapidly replaced by fantasies of Natasha Romanoff. Bucky turned his head away from her.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said to her in Russian. She was the only one of their company who would understand. ‘It’s like...waking up from a dream. It’s slow.’

‘I always felt it was like shedding a skin,’ she replied. Her voice was a little throatier when she spoke Russian. ‘The second always fits better.’

Bucky huffed in annoyance with himself. ‘Tell that to my zipper.’

He expected her to laugh. She only smiled. Natasha stood and bent at the waist to retrieve the gun he had dropped. Bucky nearly choked on his own breath. She rose, achingly slowly, chest pressing against the zipper of her catsuit. Had it always been that low? She held out his gun and Bucky snatched it from her. She smiled gracefully and crossed the jet to her own weapons stash. Calmly, as if nothing had happened, she began to take inventory. Her legs crossed over each other obscenely.

Bucky wondered if admitting his serum-induced attraction to her was perhaps the biggest mistake of his life.

That night Bucky thought a lot about how Natasha would like to fuck. Would she like to be on top? Beneath? Bent over a counter? Hogtied? Up against a wall? In the ass? He knew so little of her character that it frustrated him, almost as much as being unable to bury his face between her tits and never emerge.

Bucky settled for imagining her in each position. 

His favourite was up against the wall. He imagined wrapping his fingers around her ribs and lifting her clean off the ground. Her legs, which had tried so hard to choke him before, would wrap around his middle this time. He would lean into her and she would brace herself against the wall. Once there, he could free a hand to tangle in her hair. And she, with her perfect little fingers, would guide him to her entrance. Bucky nearly bit clean through his lip imagining sliding into her. He would take a firm hold of her hips and fuck her slowly until she would shriek with every stroke.

But Natasha would not submit so easily, he imagined. Her sharp nails would dig into his back, she would bite his shoulders. Like a wild goddamned animal she would tear at his hair and suck on his neck and demand more. And, eventually, he would give it to her. He would fuck her hard and fast until she came all over him. Then he would keep going until he ended up in the same state.

This was, of course, a ridiculous fantasy. Bucky knew if Natasha so much as flashed him a little sideboob he would come in his pants immediately. He lay there in bed, fantasy over, sticky and frustrated.

Debrief the next day was another kind of torture all together. It had started as mounds of paperwork and dissolved into the usual: Steve and Tony arguing hotly about something political. Bucky stared up at the ceiling. It was a dilemma: move and they would come out of their argument and make him resume paperwork, or stay put and listen to them bitch.

‘Guys, c’mon,’ Sam attempted to interrupt. ‘Can we just get this over with?’

‘I know, Sam, just one second…’

A collective groan went around the group.

Beside Bucky, her presence like an open flame against his face, sat Natasha. She sat back in her chair, but scooted closer to the table, tucking herself in neatly. Bucky, not able to be unaware of her, tried anyway. Bored, tired, and desperate not to suffer another boner, he paid rapt attention to Tony and Steve.

Until he felt the brush of her knee on his. Bucky, so tightly coiled, almost rocketed out his seat. With every inch of his training he kept his face impassive, and shifted his foot back so she would have more room.

The knee returned however, and this time pressed against his own firmly. Bucky dared to glance at Natasha, who was filling out her paperwork. A closer look revealed she was filling every box with zeros and writing ‘the quick brown fox jumped over the lazy dog’ everywhere else. A cover. 

Bucky dragged his own papers over to himself, glad to have an excuse to drop his head and hide his expression. Her knee pressed against his again as if in approval. Bucky began to write ‘all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy’ in the spaces where the paper asked him to summarise the mission.

Her knee disappeared, but was quickly replaced by a little naked foot. It brushed up and down his calf lightly, redirecting his entire blood flow to his dick in a second. He breathed evenly, and schooled his expression. She looked as calm as ever. Hell, she looked bored. But the way her foot wriggled under his knee was deliberate.

As if it were the most natural thing ever, Bucky reached under the desk as if to scratch his leg and wrapped his metal hand around her foot. He wished she had been on his other side so he could properly feel her skin with his right hand. He thought he heard her murmur something. Bucky wrapped his hand around her foot gently and pressed his thumb into the curve of her arch. Her foot flexed. The metal hand picked up the movement of her muscles, but little else. He glanced at her.

Natasha’s face was a little more taught than before. Curious, Bucky massaged his thumb deeper and her eyes fell shut. She was enjoying it, he realised with a jolt. She was not just winding him up. His heart thumped loudly in his ears. 

‘Alright, I’m calling it!’ Rhodey snapped. ‘Everybody, let’s try this again tomorrow.’

Natasha pulled her foot away swiftly. Bucky put his hand atop the table. By the lack of seriously concerned looks nobody seemed to have noticed their activity. Bucky remained seated as everyone began to rise. Natasha smirked at him as she packed away her things.

‘Aren’t you coming, James?’ The way she used his name did awful things to Bucky. 

He looked back up at her, clasping his hands together. ‘Seems impolite to do that here,’ he deadpanned.

She smiled widely, swinging her handbag onto her shoulder. ‘I’ll see you around.’

And off she went, the wiggle in her hips entirely more noticeable than usual. Bucky stared after her, aching from head to balls. The team trailed out behind her. Bucky breathed the last of her perfume in the air. It was light, floral - completely inappropriate for the deadly Black Widow.

‘You two seem to be getting along.’

Bucky jumped at the sound of Steve’s voice. He turned to glare at his friend, who smirked back.

‘Yeah, well…’ Bucky wondered how to put it. ‘She likes making my life hard.’

But now he knew that Natasha was not just in it for the cruelty of teasing him, he could do the same to her.

 

Natasha lay on Steve’s sofa artfully, her legs arranged just so in case Bucky walked by. So far he had remained in the confines of his bedroom. She watched the TV with boredom, too distracted to pay it proper attention. That afternoon in the conference room with James had got a little more heated than she had bargained for. The feel of his metal hand on her foot was completely different than she had imagined. It was not cold, but warm. She could feel the mechanisms humming beneath the surface. And the way he massaged her foot with it was just unholy.

When his door opened, Natasha turned her attention properly to the screen. She wanted him to believe this teasing was all casual for her, instead of frighteningly sexy. When he walked by she looked up, and her mouth popped open.

He leaned slightly through the doorway, a hand on either side, shirtless. Only a moment was spent examining the way his metal shoulder gripped to his torso. The rest she dedicated to the muscles of his chest, down to his abs, down to the jeans clinging on for dear life at his hips. Natasha shut her mouth, but could not quite muster a smirk.

‘What are you watching?’ he asked.

His hair was pulled back from his face, which was all scars and scruff and big, blue eyes. How had she not noticed his lips before? 

She shrugged. ‘Shit.’

‘Mind if I join you?’

The thought of being next to those abs on this tiny sofa shoved the word out her throat: ‘Sure.’

‘Let me grab a shirt.’

She nearly cried out in horror, but he was gone. Natasha sat up, suddenly more aware of her appearance than before. She  _ knew _ he wanted her, so why was she suddenly pinching her cheeks for blush? She scooted over and was halfway through arranging herself when he returned.

The shirt he had returned in was a thin cotton affair that did little to cover what she knew lurked beneath. It was a body made to kill, much like hers, but she wanted nothing more than to be pressed under it.

Natasha knew she had to regain control of the situation. ‘So are those your original dog tags?’ she asked, changing the channel.

‘Uh, yeah,’ he replied. ‘Found them in a museum, decided I wanted them back.’

He drew them out from beneath his shirt and looked at them. Natasha saw her opportunity and struck. She unfolded herself to peer at them over his shoulder. This allowed him a lovely peripheral view of her chest.

‘I didn’t know you were Catholic,’ she breathed.

He snorted. ‘Very much lapsed.’

‘Hm.’ She settled down by his side, still leaning over him slightly. ‘Y’know I don’t think they’ll keep you if you say things like that.’

He turned his head towards her, narrowing the distance between their faces dramatically. Natasha nearly drowned in the smell of his breath - it was minty, and smoky. He smoked and she had never known. He looked into her eyes, and she stared back. She wanted, dearly, to smother him with a kiss but she knew she had no right.

James was a slave to his own hormones at the moment. She could not take advantage of that. For all he was teenaged at the moment she was not. 

Instead she smiled a little and sank back from him. He watched her lips retreat.

‘You’re killing me, Natalia,’ he groaned softly, turning his face away.

That snapped her out of her haze. ‘What did you just call me?’ she snapped.

‘Is your name not Natalia?’ he argued, his face still turned away. ‘As much as mine is James?’

Natasha wanted to claw that name right out of his mouth. That name belonged to her younger, innocent self. That name was not to be used on  _ her _ . She resisted to urge to smack him.

‘Don’t call me that,’ she insisted flatly. 

‘Or what?’ he challenged.

Natasha threw morality out the window and straddled him in one swift motion. James froze beneath her, apart from one rapidly swelling part of himself. She felt his growing erection beneath her ass. Natasha nestled herself into his crotch and put her hands gently on his throat. He stared back at her with burning, furious, loving eyes. She stroked his throat with her fingers.

‘Or I’ll show you  _ why _ they call me the Black Widow,’ she threatened softly.

Natasha could feel the whole hard length of his dick beneath her and she nearly melted. Just a few layers of fabric lay between ecstasy for both of them, but she had to remain strong. She pressed her thumbs into his throat delicately.

His hands stroked up her thighs, leaving prickling flesh in their wake. Natasha felt herself grow wet. At her hips they stopped and gripped her tightly. Both his left and right hands were like vices. She leaned into him, pressing her boobs against his chest and bringing her mouth to his ear.

‘My name is Natasha,’ she whispered to him in Russian. 

‘If calling you Natalia gets me this sort of treatment…’ he trailed off. His hands ascended to her waist.

‘No,’ she replied. ‘It gets you this sort of treatment.’

Natasha made sure to press on his throat as she dismounted him. She did not spare him a second glance as she slid into her shoes and walked out the apartment. She knew if she stayed she would give in.

 

Bucky sat there, shell-shocked. There was teasing and then there was  _ that _ . She had been so close he had actually felt the mound of her vulva on his cock.

Steve was right - Bucky was dead meat. 

 

Natasha quickly rounded the corner of the apartment building and stopped. She paused to consider what had just happened. She leaned against the cool bricks and breathed slowly.

That was a move she had pulled before. She had fucked casually, she wasn’t a vestal virgin. So why was mounting James and threatening him making her more than a little hot under the collar? She pressed her thighs together in an attempt to relieve some of the mounting arousal. It only made the situation worse.

The combination of her anger and humour towards him combined to create a powerful lust. In that moment Natasha wanted nothing more than to return to him and finish what she had started. 

But she was correct to believe it cruel. He was struggling with the serum. He wanted her, yes, but he had not before. For all the times he had shot her, Natasha had to respect his right to choose. Under the influence of that many hormones the choice was not his.

Natasha wondered how long it would last. He had said ‘soon’... Perhaps when he returned to normal, he would still hold an interest in her. Until then, Natasha would have to wait.

She groaned and set off home for a night in bed with her vibrator that was unfortunately a very familiar silver colour.

 

Natasha spent the night at the Avengers Compound. Her apartment was just too close to Steve’s, and to Bucky’s dick. Her willpower was iron when faced with a mission, but in the face of a horny Winter Soldier she had gone to pieces. She had packed only three kinds of items before leaving her place: clothes, toiletries and sex toys.

She woke still horny from the night before. Groaning with both anger and anticipation she opened the drawer beneath her bed and pulled out her most favourite vibrator. Silky and silvery it was exactly what she craved from James. She slid it down her already soaked pants and flicked the switch.

As the vibrations poured through her, opening her mouth and curling her head into the pillow, she thought of James. She imagined it was him between her legs, warm metal fingers touching her with ultimate precision. His birth-given hand lifting the hood of her clit and pressing down into her flesh. His body weight would be more than enough to pin her there.

She jerked beneath the vibrator, orgasm rapidly building.

Natasha imagined how it would feel to have him open his mouth and lick her from ass to clit and back again. She moaned to herself. She could picture his silken tongue against her, moving expertly to incite her orgasm. To push her along further he slid two of those metal fingers inside her. Natasha whined into her pillow and upped the speed of her vibrator.

Panting madly, she struggled to hold onto the fantasy as it became a mish mash of his fingers and tongue exploring her. She imagined curling her fingers into his hair tightly. He would push her legs wide to accommodate those ridiculous shoulders. His face would eagerly take what new ground was offered.

She came as she did in her fantasy: messily. As her orgasm lessened she imagined his wet lips and cheeks kissing along her thighs to make her squirm. She almost giggled at the thought.

Sated, finally, Natasha rose and readied for the day. Coffee in hand she descended to her office and nearly stopped dead at the sight that greeted her in the hallway.

James had Steve in a headlock, laughing as he did. He looked...different to say the least. Gone was the constant five o’clock shadow, replaced with a strong, clean shaven jaw. His hair was cut shorter, a little messily so but had been smoothed away from his face with much product. He was grinning, wearing a loose military jacket over a fabulously tight white shirt. He looked like he did in the museums, except the metal arm.

Steve struggled in his grip but eventually shook him. As he straightened up, both men spotted Natasha at the end of the hallway. She raised an eyebrow.

‘Nat,’ Steve said urgently, ‘thank God you’re here, I didn’t know if you would be.’

‘I do work here,’ she replied.

James stared at her like he usually did for just a second: stunned. In a moment his expression melted into something different all together. A wide, charming smile filled his face. His eyes became heavy and inviting. His stood up straighter, chest wider, and his arms crossed confidently.

‘How you doin’?’ he asked, accent more thickly Brooklyn than Natasha had ever heard.

She turned her attention back to Steve. ‘What is he doing here?’

There was another reason Natasha had chosen to stay at the Compound: James was very much not invited. Tony hated his guts after the reveal that the Winter Soldier killed his parents. Steve never brought him, even when on official business. James would get the information via an earpiece.

‘Hey, Bucky, could you get us some coffee?’ Steve asked. He pointed into his own office. ‘Should be stuff in there.’

‘Sure.’ Easy, lazily, he unfolded himself and began walking. He took one long look at Natasha before he rounded the corner. Never before had she seen him so confident.

Steve hustled her into her own office a moment later. She set down her coffee cup calmly as he paced.

‘I didn’t know where else to bring him,’ Steve began to babble. ‘Tony’s out of town with Pepper so I figured now would be okay…’ He sighed massively and sank into her office chair. 

‘What happened?’ she asked bluntly, taking the other chair.

Steve sighed again and raised his head. ‘This morning I took him to his psychiatrists, the ones trying to get all that HYDRA crap out of his head. I don’t know what they did but they triggered something in him. He walked out of there as  _ Bucky _ .’

She narrowed her eyes in confusion. ‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean 1943, never seen a war  _ Bucky _ . He doesn’t remember a goddamn thing after enlisting.’

Natasha’s heart thudded in her chest. ‘I guess that explains the whole look.’

Steve groaned. ‘They’re saying it’s a delusion, that he’ll get over it given time. Until then I didn’t want him wandering around New York making trouble.’

‘So you brought him to the most high-tech place just outside New York?’ Natasha asked flatly.

‘That’s the thing though,’ Steve said anxiously, ‘technology doesn’t freak him out. His arm doesn’t bother him, or any of this.’ He gestured to the building. ‘He’s cracked.’

She extended a hand to pat his. ‘Steve, he’ll be fine. You did the right thing to bring him here. The psychs will figure out what to do and he’ll be back to his sullen self in no time.’

Steve groaned loudly, scrubbing his face with his hands.

‘Alright!’ James, or rather  _ Bucky _ , called on entering the room. ‘Who wants coffee?’

Natasha picked up the mug she already had and sipped. Over the rim she observed Bucky pouring the black liquid from an old fashioned pot, smiling to himself. He had lost the jacket at some point and that white cotton shirt hugged him like a lover. He even had a pack of cigarettes rolled into the sleeve.

‘Can I top you up, sweetheart?’ he asked of her.

Steve nearly choked, and began coughing madly. Natasha and Bucky ignored him in favour of observing each other. He was not innocent by a long shot. For all his Cheshire Cat smiles she could see the determination in his eyes. Not innocent, but not the same man from last night who straight up tried to seduce her.

She put down her mug and pushed it towards him. ‘Okay.’

‘So do I get a name with that or have I got to try harder?’ he asked, pouring the coffee.

‘Way harder,’ she replied, accepting the mug.

It was too easy to flirt with this Bucky. He pulled up a seat with an easy ankle hooked around the chair leg. He was quite graceful when sure of himself. He sat and pulled the cigarette pack from his sleeve. Like any good gentleman, he offered one to Natasha first.

She debated for a moment. His eyes were wide and a little more honest now - it seemed he was trying a different approach. She took the offered cigarette mostly to see what he would do. Of course, he lit it for her with an old fashioned Zippo produced from nowhere.

‘Thanks,’ she said, blowing smoke out her nose.

‘You’re welcome…?’ He looked at her expectantly.

She said nothing, but smiled down into her coffee.

‘Seriously?’ He laughed. ‘You’re not gonna tell me your name?’

Natasha did what all good Femme Fatales did and smoked delicately and ignored her man to drive him crazy. Bucky groaned playfully before pointing to Steve.

‘Don’t tell me this punk has anything to do with it,’ he objected. ‘Cause I’m the nicest guy you’ll ever meet, sweetheart.’

Steve drew in a sharp breath at that nickname again. Natasha looked back to Bucky flatly.

‘Maybe I’m just not impressed,’ she challenged.

Bucky grinned back at her. ‘I’ll impress you yet, Red.’

‘Until then,’ Natasha dropped her half-smoked cigarette into Bucky’s coffee, ‘stay out of my office.’

‘C’mon, Buck,’ Steve said, hauling him to his feet. ‘Time to go.’

Bucky protested only a little, holding up his coffee. ‘You owe me one now, sweetheart.’

Steve shoved him out into the hall. ‘Would you  _ stop _ calling her that?’

Natasha chuckled to herself. Perhaps this Bucky could be just as much fun as the last.

Whatever Steve did with Bucky, Natasha did not see him for the rest of the day. Until he showed up that evening in the gym - looking like fresh sex. 

He was in shorts, something Natasha never thought she would see, and that same white shirt. He tucked his dog tags beneath his shirt as he entered, seemingly lost in thought. Natasha paused in her workout, fists still raised to punch the heavy bag. Bucky looked like a 1940s wrestling champion, only bigger and stronger and all the more vicious.

‘Hey, Red,’ he greeted happily. ‘Fancy seeing you here.’

He dropped his bag and pulled out bandages for his hands. Natasha could not help but smile at his appearance. How strange it was that the Winter Soldier had once been him. Natasha turned and began boxing again.

After a minute, two hands steadied the bag from the other side. One metal and one flesh, both wrapped up tightly. Bucky peered around at her. Natasha scowled.

‘You got a few moves there,’ he complimented, seemingly sincerely. ‘Where did you learn to do that?’

‘KGB,’ Natasha answered honestly.

He looked at her blankly. ‘Not a clue, I’m afraid. But if you want a partner I can help you out.’

‘You want to box with me?’ she asked to clarify.

If there was one thing the Winter Soldier avoided doing it was trying to hurt her. Bucky seemed unconcerned about this fact. Perhaps he thought her punches would be dainty, and he could beat her with a push.

‘Alright,’ she agreed. ‘Warm up and I’ll meet you in the ring.’

He grinned. He looked so much younger in this personality. Natasha smiled and shook her head. She knew she should not be entertaining this flirtation, but it was only harmless fun. Plus maybe if she knocked him out he would be less attractive.

In the ring Bucky proved to have good form. He was no professional, but he was a fighter. He knew when to swing and when to block. Natasha pulled her punches for the most part. Until he caught her just a little too hard on the jaw with his gloved hand. She pulled back and shook out the sudden bloom of pain.

Instantly, the bravado was gone. He was before her, arms wide and expression horrified.

‘Oh God, are you okay?’ he asked in a panic. ‘Didn’t mean for that one to catch you…’

Natasha responded by punching him square in the face. This time she did not hold back.

Bucky hit the floor with a solid thud, followed by a groan. Natasha let out a peal of laughter. He half sat up, leaning on his elbows, to look at her. A little blood oozed from a split in the skin across his nose. He nodded to her in respect.

‘Sweetheart, that’s one hell of a right hook.’

She laughed again. ‘Couldn’t resist.’ She pulled her hands from her gloves. ‘Get up.’

He took the hand offered and she hauled him to his feet. Bucky watched her with wide eyes, not scared but fascinated. He unfastened his gloves and flexed his fingers. Natasha watched him delicately touch the blood above his lip.

‘I might not be much but you’re the most impressive dame I have ever met,’ he said with a smile.

_ Charming _ , that was the word. Bucky Barnes was charming and it melted Natasha a little. She wrapped her lips around her water bottle, and his eyes lapped up the show greedily. 

‘It’s Natasha,’ she said finally. 

‘Natasha,’ he repeated, happy. ‘Pretty name for a pretty gal. So what are you doing later, Natasha?’

The way he was so nearly begging for her attention drove Natasha a little wild. Were it not for the numerous cameras, she would have pushed him down again and mounted his face then and there. Instead, she shrugged.

‘Do you like movies?’

‘I like movies.’ What was she doing? He was half-mad. She should leave him be.

‘How weird! I like movies too.’ He moved closer to her, close enough to touch. ‘We should go see one.’

‘You know Steve isn’t letting you leave this compound, right?’

He scoffed. ‘Steve? Ah, he couldn’t stop me. But if you’d rather stay I’m sure we could figure something else out.’

‘Oh yeah, like what?’

‘You like dancing?’

And that was it. Natasha’s heart strings snapped one after the other like a knife to a harp. He did not know, of course, that she was raised to be a dancer. Trained and taught and passionate but never to be one, because she was an assassin. So much like him… 

‘I love dancing,’ she admitted.

‘Great!’ Then his wide hands were pulling her in. She was shocked by his confident touch, but allowed him to continue. One slid over her waist, the other pulled up her hand. ‘Cause I got some great moves.’

He pulled her into a gentle sway and Natasha nearly choked. Her feet moved with his, submitting to the joy of dance easily. The larger part of her brain said to crush his fingers like carrot sticks.

‘Well…’ Natasha struggled to find words. 

He raised an eyebrow at her sudden hesitance. ‘I’ll pick you up at seven thirty?’

Her smile broke through despite his charm all being madness induced. ‘Seven thirty,’ she agreed.

Later that evening, as she was getting ready for her date with Bucky Barnes, Steve nearly broke down her door. She looked up at him briefly from her dressing table before resuming her lipstick. He stared back at her expectantly, but a little amused too.

‘Why is Bucky asking me about dance halls?’ he asked bluntly.

‘I don’t know,’ she lied. 

‘Oh yeah? Do you know why he thinks he’s going on a date with you?’

She smiled to herself. ‘Not a clue.’

Steve chuckled. ‘Y’know he’s halfway in love with you, right? Thinks you’re the best dame he’s ever met.’

‘Well I should think so,’ Natasha replied. She pushed an earring through her lobe.

‘He’s going to be so embarrassed when he comes back to himself,’ Steve pointed out. ‘He may never get over it.’

‘I’m counting on it,’ she purred in reply.

Steve laughed once again. ‘Remind me to never get on your bad side.’

At seven-thirty on the dot, a knock came at her door. Natasha made him wait a few moments as she slid into her low heels. They were fit for dancing and complimented her tea dress nicely. When she opened it she could not help but smile.

Bucky stood, flowers in hand, looking for all the world like something out of a dream. Unable to leave the compound, Natasha realised he must have picked the bouquet himself from the rooftop garden. 

‘Those for me?’ she asked.

‘Well they ain’t for Steve,’ he replied, all Cheshire Cat smiles once again.

Natasha accepted the mismatched bunch of flowers gladly. God, he was sweet. She could feel cavities coming in. He held out an elbow to her and she slid her arm through his.

Bucky led her to a small gymnasium usually used for sparring. Now, a record player on a little table stood in one corner. Beside it, a bottle of champagne and two tall glasses. Eagerly, he skipped over to them and uncorked the bottle with his metal hand. Natasha held up the glasses feeling more than a little spoiled.

‘Couldn’t find any real champagne glasses,’ he said, ‘but I was told these would do. Cheers.’

‘Cheers,’ she echoed.

Bucky slipped a record onto the player, no doubt both borrowed from Steve. At once old jazz filled the room, and he held out a hand to her. It felt like another life as Bucky pulled her to his side and they danced. 

Natasha knew it was all a lie. She knew that he would snap out of it and she would never be a girl on a date with a cute guy. She knew it was a lie and it would end sooner rather than later, but she let it happen. It was a lie, but what wasn’t in her life? So she enjoyed dancing with him. He was an excellent dancer.

They spent almost an hour spinning around the hall, occasionally pausing for sips of champagne before resuming. Bucky held her close throughout. His fingers fit into the curve of her waist so well. She tried to suppress the arousal she felt, and failed. When she lay her head on his broad chest he smelled masculine and inviting. The way he embraced her as they danced, his forearm covering the space from her waist to her shoulder easily, make fires light inside her. Natasha ached to drop to her knees and have her way with him. Oh, she would suck the goddamn life out of him.

He pressed his cheek to hers to speak in her ear. ‘So what do you do?’ he asked in a low, rough voice.

Natasha put her hands on his shoulders and tried to convince herself she could shove him away if he tried anything. ‘That’s classified.’ 

His hum was so low it sent vibrations through her body. ‘I see...Where did you learn to dance so well?’

‘Same places as you, I imagine,’ she replied cryptically mostly because she did not know what else to tell him.

He laughed. ‘So on a bottle of champagne? Usually this stuff muddles me up but tonight...You’re crystal clear.’

_ Oh God… _

Natasha pressed her face into his neck, unable to pull away. It was a dream, she would wake up any minute. He was too perfect and she was so, so wrong to even consider taking advantage of him like this. So wrong.

‘What’s say we get outta here,’ he whispered in her ear.

‘You have no idea how much I want to do that.’ Natasha spoke just as quietly to him. ‘But not tonight.’

‘You’re killing me here, sweetheart.’

_ Feeling’s mutual. _

Unable to resist just that tiny bit of temptation, Natasha kissed his neck quickly before pulling back. But Bucky held onto her hands tight and she was forced to face him properly. His eyes were hungry. When he pulled her back in, arms sealing around her waist, and pressed his lips to hers Natasha did not resist. He kissed her with long, sure motions. She nearly whimpered into his mouth. Natasha moved her lips against his tentatively, which evoked a hum of satisfaction from him and a yet tighter embrace.

Natasha pulled back again, this time putting her hands on his chest. For a long moment they stood there and panted slightly.

‘Bucky, I gotta go,’ she struggled to get the words out. 

What she  _ wanted _ was to strip him down and lick him from one head to the other.

‘Alright,’ he conceded, grinning. ‘Let me walk you back.’

So he did. He walked her back, arm around her waist, like it was the easiest thing in the world. Natasha tried to feel guilty, but she was having too much fun. She kissed him once again, this time a little more heatedly, before retreating to her room.

Natasha was woken just bare minutes after falling asleep. There was someone crashing around in the hallway. She sat up in bed to listen and heard the distinct sound of drywall breaking. She slid to the door, gun in hand, and peeked out.

Bucky was in the hallway, only she knew by looking at him it was no longer Bucky. In his stead a very confused-looking James stood. His hair was a mess again, his metal fist planted inside the wall. Natasha caught his attention by taking the safety off her gun. He stared up at her, face full of distrust.

‘James,’ she said gently. 

‘Where am I?’ he demanded. ‘This isn’t the apartment. Where am I?’

‘You’re at the compound,’ she explained. ‘You’re safe.’

He pulled out his fist, flexing the plates noisily against each other. He stalked around the corridor like a caged animal. ‘How did I get here?’

‘Steve brought you.’

‘Where is he?’

‘He’s sleeping.’

James cast around again, and began shaking slightly. Natasha pushed her door wide with a hip and gestures for him to enter. Once inside her dark room he seemed to calm a little. 

‘I don’t remember,’ he said roughly. ‘The last day is gone.’

‘You had an incident at the psychiatrist’s. You’ll be alright.’

He looked at her with horror. ‘Did I hurt anyone?’

She shook her head. ‘Now, are you gonna take a few deep breaths so I can put this away?’ She waved her gun at him.

He nodded and sank onto her bed. After a second he flopped down, breathing evenly. Natasha stayed silent, observing, until he seemed to finally come back to himself. He was still frowning in confusion, but the words that came out of this mouth were, ‘did we go on a date or have I really cracked?’

Natasha sat down next to him, putting the safety back on. ‘Yeah,’ she laughed. ‘You were a gentleman.’

James sat up, eyes narrowed. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘I’ll wait for you to remember.’

He looked off into the middle distance as he thought. Natasha crawled back under her sheets. She observed him: sweatpants, shirt damp with sweat. He ran his flesh hand over his chin, which was already producing a little shadow. His head suddenly fell into his hands.

‘Oh God,’ he groaned massively. ‘I called you sweetheart.’

Natasha let out the laughter that had been building. Bucky curled up at the end of her bed, completely mortified. She was near to tears, her legs kicking under the blanket with joy. He rolled onto his back, defeated. His arms spread wide to reveal the hard planes of his chest in the limited moonlight.

‘But hey…’ His voice turned knowing, teasing. ‘At least I got a couple of kisses out it, right?’

He flipped back onto his belly, grinning wickedly up at Natasha. She smirked back. 

‘Figured  _ I _ may as well get something out of it,’ she said casually.

Natasha flinched and tried to pull away as he grabbed her ankle over the blanket. Unfortunately she was beneath the grip of his metal hand. She turned to grab her gun from the bedside table. Before she could, he had pulled her down the bed swiftly. All the breath left her as James pressed his body down on hers, trapping her. Fear and arousal mixed within her. He settled with his torso almost completely covering hers, his elbows either side of her head.

‘See,’ he said, ‘what I think is that you actually want to fuck me, but you’re too proud to admit it.’

‘Not too proud,’ she argued breathlessly, ‘just not stupid enough.’

‘Stop lying,’ he purred.

He leaned down and kissed her neck ever so softly. Fire swept through her body at every point they touched. Damn that stupid bedsheet! Damn him! Natasha squirmed but could find no release.

‘Admit it and I’ll let you go,’ he teased.

‘Go to hell!’ she spat half-heartedly.

He kissed her neck more forcefully, making her heart jump. Natasha managed to free her arms from the blanket. She braced her palms against his chest and tried not to swoon at the solid rock her touch met. In her wriggling, she got one leg bent. But James fell into the space it vacated happily. Natasha found her crotch dangerously close to his.

‘Something to say, Natasha?’

He sucked gently on her jawbone. Natasha let out a long-built whine. Her hands curled around his shoulders. 

She realised her body would no longer be satisfied with sex toys. She needed the real thing. God how she  _ needed _ him.

‘If you’re going to fuck me you’d better get on with it!’ she snapped. 

He let out a surprised huff of laughter. ‘Guess I’m not the only one who can’t stand it anymore.’

James raised himself up, tore away her blanket and settled into her embrace all in a swift two seconds. Natasha accepted him greedily, drawing him into a near desperate kiss. She could feel his erection against her stomach already. She reached down between them and stroked him through his sweatpants. He moaned into her mouth and she nearly melted into a puddle.

They paused for a moment to strip out of their clothes. He was a lot faster than she, and as she reached down to pull off her underwear she found a swift metal hand already doing so. He peeled them down her legs as if opening a present. Natasha struggled to breathe as she finally saw what she had imagined so many times. For a brief moment she wondered if his dick would even fit inside her, and then thrill took over her. She pushed him onto his back and straddled him for a second time.

James was surprisingly vocal, unlike most men she had encountered. ‘God, Natasha!’ She reached down and massaged his cock between her legs. She leaned over him for another kiss. He obliged passionately. Just as her eyes slid shut she felt his mismatched hands on her breasts. She jerked against him, emitting a sigh of pleasure. Natasha slid one hand down to cup his balls.

‘I don’t think I’m gonna last,’ he panted against her cheek.

‘Then I’ll sit on your face until you make it up to me.’

His groan was so low it sounded like a growl. His hands took her waist and flipped them over once again. Natasha happily surrendered her control. James pushed her legs apart and slid two fingers of his right hand inside her. She let out a long moan as he fingered her. When his thumb brushed against her clit she cried out, and received a groan from him in return.

Natasha could tell he was on the edge. As long as he was there she would not get what she wanted. So she spread her legs wide, sat up, bent over and took the head of his cock into her mouth. He stuttered, twisted his fingers into her hair, and came as soon as she sucked. Triumph soared through Natasha as she swallowed. His hands softened in her hair. She gave him a few moments to recover, kissing the lower parts of his abs in reverence.

Eventually he picked her up, hands tight around her ribs, and kissed her. While he was sated, she was not. Natasha shoved him onto his back with two hands and, as promised, mounted his face. James accepted the task with zeal, his hands grabbing her ass to hold her in place.

At the first long lick of his flat, warm tongue she cried out. He continued like this for a few long minutes, teasing her into almost madness. Her clit was desperate to be sucked on. She tangled one hand into his hair and curled the other around the headboard. She was keening wildly. At this sound, James turned his attention to where Natasha desired and began to circle her clitoris quickly.

Natasha gasped, stuttered for breath, and instantly felt her orgasm building. The pressure built in her crotch at each expert circle and stroke. She was panting, giving high little squeaks like nothing that had ever come out of her before. Then he wrapped his lips around her clit and sucked. She hit the sweet, pre-orgasm spot immediately, so on the edge she felt like she was about to explode. 

‘Don’t stop!’ she gasped out. 

He obliged her, and a second later Natasha came so hard she almost passed out. She ground her hips down onto his face, shrieking and gasping and shuddering with pleasure. He kissed her vulva lovingly while she recovered.

Eventually, her grips on his hair and the bed loosened. Natasha slumped over him, pushing her crotch down onto his chest and leaning her forehead against his. Occasionally, she gave a small shake like the aftershocks of an earthquake. She wondered where in the hell he had learned to do that.

‘Nat,’ he whispered.

‘Yes?’ she murmured back, eyes closed.

‘Do you have a condom?’

And instantly she was alert again. She opened her eyes and grinned at him wickedly. She glanced over her shoulder to see he was once again hard. Of course. Super soldier, super recovery. She turned back to him and trapped him in a grateful kiss.

‘Not necessary, soldier,’ she replied.

He moaned, gripped her and rolled them over so she was on her back. He kissed her fiercely.

‘You have no idea how much I’ve thought about this,’ he admitted in a whisper.

Natasha ran her fingers down his chest. ‘Me too.’ It was possibly the most honest thing she had ever said.

He put one hand on her hip, lifting her slightly and used the other to guide his dick inside her. Natasha gasped and held her breath as she stretched to accommodate James. He buried himself in her as deeply as possible. Eventually, she released her breath to gasp for more. She could feel every single inch of him, thick and hard and wonderful. James paused there, pulling her into a desperate kiss.

‘You’re so fucking tight,’ he cursed in Russian.

Natasha wanted to reply, but she didn’t seem able to catch her breath. Instead she kissed him again and tried to pour every inch of longing she held into it. 

As they kissed, his hands slid under her back and lifted her until she was sat in his lap. They fit together like two parts of a machine as they adjusted their position. She widened her legs, he supported her weight with two hands under her ass, she brought herself to a kneeling position, his metal arm wrapped around her back and waist; and all without leaving her cunt.

Slowly, James pulled out from her, lifting her easily, and entered her again. Their cries mingled together. Natasha braced herself with two hands on his shoulders. He began to fuck her in earnest after a few slow strokes. She simply did not grow use to his size, and nor did she want to. Every stroke was better than the last, firmer and harder and faster. Natasha pulled his head against her chest and he sucked on her nipples, one after the other. She cradled his head and moaned into his scalp. 

‘Nat,’ he gasped out against her skin, ‘I’m gonna-’

‘Hold on!’ she cried. ‘Not yet.’

His groan was massive and needy but he held on. Natasha pushed herself up and down him now in perfect tandem with his thrusts. Her every breath now accompanied a cry and despite his silent agreement he began to copy her. Natasha focussed on the pleasure, on the near pain of his girth inside her, and the sweet victory of finally fucking James. She came hard, crying out loudly and strongly, her head tilting back. James was a moment behind her, thrusting into her hard. He collapsed backwards, taking her with him and she lay on his chest happily.

Natasha had never been more satisfied in her life. Neither she or James moved from their embrace even as he softened and slipped out of her. They lay there, sticky and sweaty, for uncountable minutes. She didn’t want to move, didn’t want to risk spoiling the most perfect moment of her life.

When James moved it was with a slow certainty. She let him, curious. He half lifted her, bringing her chest closer to his face, but paid no attention to her breasts. He instead placed a very warm, firm kiss on her left shoulder - over the scar he had put there.

Natasha’s breath left her once again but this time from emotion. He turned her over and crawled down the bed to kiss her hip also. The kisses were apologies, she knew, and so painfully sincere she felt the prick of tears in her eyes. She lay still has James kissed the two places he had put bullets in her, until he tried to pull away from her all together.

Natasha gently clasped his head in her hands, bringing it to rest on her stomach. He let out a slightly shaky sigh as he settled there. This was her forgiveness. She stroked her hands through his hair.

After perhaps half an hour of peaceful silence, Natasha heard his breaths turn heavy with sleep. She patted his cheek to rouse him. He hummed in confusion, she pulled at his shoulder to indicate he should move up the bed. Sleepily, he did so, and pulled her into his arms. Natasha leaned against his chest heavily and he took her weight. 

Natasha thought of what was to come. Days of blissful sex she imagined. Was he still riding the waves of his serum-induced arousal? She found she couldn’t bear that thought. If that were the case, it had to end now. She was not a toy to be fucked and tossed away. 

But the way he pushed his fingers into the hair at the nape of her neck said otherwise. His touch was tender, and the kisses he had given on her bullet wounds were more than just lust.

‘You know…’ she began in a slightly nervous whisper, ‘most people who sleep with a black widow end up dead.’

‘You gonna kill me?’ he asked sleepily, amused.

‘Maybe,’ she said, trailing her fingers over his throat. ‘I don’t want to though.’

‘I don’t want you to either,’ he replied. ‘If I’m dead I can’t take you out for breakfast.’

And there was all the reassurance she needed. Natasha, heart swelling almost painfully, kissed James. He kissed her in return, something entirely different of his also swelling.

 

 

Fin.

 


End file.
